The True Story of Jafar
by DangerMouse
Summary: A look into Jafar's past with a possible explination his actions later in the series
1.

Chapter One

The True Story of Jafar

Chapter One

By: DangerMouse, The Great Immortal

A large, blue boat sailed through the room. A talking boat. 

"And then the crew of the mighty Titanic saw an iceberg! You don't see many icebergs in Agrabah, but it's like a big block of ice," said the boat as it turned into a large block of ice, then turned back into a boat, "And then... uh, well, hmmm..." The boat turned into a blue genie, who zipped over to the corner to mutter to himself, "Gee, this isn't as happy of a story as I thought it would be..."

The genie looked as though he might sprain something, he was concentrating so hard. A young man dressed in a resplendent white royal uniform laughed.

"Don't worry Genie," he said with a smile, as he looked in the ornate wooden crib, which was the current center of attention, "Little Jalan is practically asleep anyway."

"I guess your right Al," replied Genie with a small frown on his face. "I really got to go back over my fairy tales."

Aladdin laughed again. At that moment a palace guard walked into the room.

"Prince Aladdin, sir, the Sultan requests you at dinner, if your child is now asleep, that is," said the guard, bowing deeply.

"Sure, on my way. Come on Genie. We can't keep the Ambassadors from Julagi waiting."

"Right Al!" The Genie zipped back over to the crib. "Next time, I'll tell you all about how your Dad defeated the evil Jafar!" and with that, he popped out of the room. 

Unnoticed by all, a small figure fluttered out of the dark rafters in the large, spacious room. The figure landed lightly on the side of the crib. He stretched his neck and flapped his wings a number of times before settling in a comfortable position. The figure "humphed" loudly.

"Yeah, right. Like that stupid blob of magic could ever get a story right." The figure sighed softly as he looked at the child in the crib. "Nobody knows the truth. Nobody except your own Uncle Iago here." The red parrot looked across the room and out the window, his eyes glittering with the full moon's light and it wasn't because of sand in his eyes. Another sigh racked his small, red-feathered body. He looked at the baby again, who was staring at him intently.

"But maybe it's time someone else knew. After all," he said with a cynical smile, "you do have his name." The bird shook his head. "And it wasn't his fault. None of it was. Anyway, who are you going to tell, kid? No one, at least, not for a few years yet."

Iago's eyes temporarily lost their focus as he allowed himself to be wrapped up in the misty past. "Now I don't know everything, and I'm not much of a story teller. But I'll do my best. This all takes place years before you were born, years before your mom and dad ever met..."

* * * * *

__

15 years earlier...

A solemn figure walked the near empty streets of the Agrabanian market place. His white robes dragged along the ground, getting filthy, but he paid it no heed. He drew his arm across his eyes, brushing away the tears that stung them. His sad state was not out of place this day. Those who were in the market place stood in small groups, most crying, speaking in sad tones. It seemed as though all of Agrabah was crying that day.

The Sultana was dead.

In the end, the wasting illness had left her too weak to move and he knew she was in great pain. Yet, a smile never left her face, as she was the one who did all the comforting. The Sultana hated to see her husband so sad and her daughter was simply confused, not understanding why her mother couldn't run, sing, and play anymore. Her last hours were spent close to her family and their friend, the Sultan's most trusted advisor, Jalan the Sorcerer. Jalan had spent the last few days easing her pain with herbs and potions, knowing the end was near. Once the ordeal was over, he had spent his time comforting the family and handling some of the paperwork that had built up. But the mood had grown too oppressive. He was tired of being the strong one. With that, he had murmured a few strange archaic words and had found himself walking outside of the palace.

Jalan stopped in his musings, and slumped against the wall of one of the nearby buildings. He brushed some of the sand off of his robes and looked into the cloud filled sky. It looked as though the annual rainstorm would start soon. It was usually a joyous time for the desert kingdom, normally followed by a wild festival. This year, there would be no festival. Only a funeral procession and a number of ambassadors arriving to say their regrets and offer their condolences. Jalan breathed a sigh and continued on his walk through the market place. He shuddered involuntarily. It was like a ghost town.

"POLLY WANT A CRACKER!"

Jalan jumped nearly a foot in the air, shocked as the loud screeching voice cut the silence like a knife. He looked around for the source of the noise. A smile made its way across his face - the first smile he'd had in a long time.

Sitting in a rusted, degraded birdcage was a filthy red parrot. The cage was a little too small for the bird, so he was unable to prune himself. That didn't break his spirit though. Once he had sighted Jalan, he continued to chirp and sing and call for food. Jalan leaned over to get a closer look.

"Why hello there. Aren't you a handsome, intelligent creature!" Jalan pulled out a cracker and fed the hungry bird, which chirped happily and mimicked him in return.

"AWK! Why hello there aren't you a handsome intelligent creature AWK!" Jalan smiled. He liked the animal already. A man walked out of a tent near the stall where the bird hung, anger on his face.

"I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO SHUT UP YOU STUPID BIRD!" he bellowed angrily.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid..." replied the bird. Jalan couldn't help but laugh out loud. It felt so good to laugh again. Wiping the tears from his eyes, he turned to the merchant.

"What is your price for this bird?" he asked, a smile still spread across his face.

The merchant looked at him is shock for a moment before replying. "You're telling me you actually want this piece of vermin? I was going to feed him to my dog."

"I assure you I am quite serious. What is the price?"

"Well," mused the merchant, taking off his hat and rubbing his bald head, "I guess you can have him for... two shackles?"

"Deal," replied the wizard, pushing the money into the merchant's hand. He picked up the cage and held it at eye level. "Well, little friend, how would you feel about becoming a familiar for me, hmmm?"

"Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid... AWK! Polly want a cracker!" replied the bird.

"I thought you would," laughed the wizard with a smile. They reached the palace walls just as the first few drops of rain hit the ground.

* * * * *

__

One year later...

"I don't know about this, Jalan," murmured Iago as he watched his master shuffle around the underground laboratory he called home. "I mean, this whole thing seems really dangerous. I've never been big on hunting renegade wizards."

"Oh, come on, Iago! Where's your sense of adventure?" called the wizard from the secret room he had just entered, "Besides, we won't _only_ be hunting down that treacherous Utander. I honestly doubt we'll find him at all. We'll be at the 500th Semi-Annual Magic Convention ™. Why, it's an opportunity of a lifetime for you. There's going to be lots of other familiars there for you to talk to. Maybe you'll make a friend!"

The parrot rolled his eyes before speaking.

"Great. How many wizards do you think pick parrots as their familiars?"

"Well, I think it's popular among the Pirate Wizards this year."

"And how many of those exist?"

"Well..." replied Jalan as he came back into the main room, "...not many. But still, it should be fun anyway. Although I will need to tell my friends to keep their cats at bay..."

"Veerrrry funny, Jalan. Maybe you should have become a stand-up comic instead."

Jalan chuckled as he walked over to the small glowing light source on the table. As he held up the jar, Iago could tell it contained something very icky. He looked at it closely, but reeled away in shock shortly after realizing it was looking back. Iago decided to look at the nice, plain wall instead.

"Excellent," exclaimed Jalan, "The Trintabulen has grown very well. I can fetch a fare trade for the stuff this guy excretes!" He shoved the jar into a large pack that contained a number of other equally icky things. Hefting it on his back, he turned to look at his familiar.

"Go on ahead, Iago. Before we depart, we must bid our employer farewell."

"Very true," murmured the bird, "From the sounds of this trip, I don't think we'll be coming back alive."

* * * * *

Somewhere, the darkness stirred. 

The shadow waited. It could wait. It had waited a long time. Soon, one that was worthy, yet not fully developed, would come and make it whole. 

It had only but to wait.

* * * * * * 

Jalan yanked on a golden cord that was well hidden in the dark passage. A once invisible door swung inward silently, leading into a large, empty storage room. It was covered in at least an inch of dust. Jalan murmured softly under his breath and levitated slowly off the ground so as not to disturb a single grain of sand. He wanted no mark of his passing. Floating quickly across the room, he gently pushed open the door that led out, causing the secret door to slam shut with a definite "thump." Jalan stepped silently out of the air and into the hallway, carefully closing the door behind him. He sighed softly and nodded in satisfaction.

"Seems like an awful lot of work just to leave the lab."

Jalan shot a disapproving glare at his familiar.

"You shouldn't talk like that in public, Iago," he chastised, "and it's good to practice discretion, which is something you have obviously yet to master."

"So sue me. Are we just about ready to leave on this suicide mission?"

"We aren't going to die, Iago," replied Jalan, as he patiently held out his arm. Iago flew over and landed in his place on Jalan's shoulder.

The mage began to walk swiftly down the hallway, towards the throne room. Suddenly, he felt something slam into his legs, knocking him backwards. Iago flew off his shoulder onto an expensive looking vase and assumed his don't-look-at-me-I'm-just-a-dumb-bird expression. A guard came running around the corner.

"Awk! Discretion! Awk!"

Jalan took a moment to glare at his familiar before looking to see what had hit him. A smile made its way across his face as he helped the small, struggling figure off the ground.

"Good morning Princess. Exercising?"

The young royal laughed and brushed a stray strand of hair out of her face.

"Not really Jalan. Just giving the guards a hard time." She smiled impishly at the chuckling mage before ducking behind his legs.

"Princess Jasmine!" growled the guard as he rushed up to Jalan, "You must return to your room and get ready for the ambassador's arrival this very instant!"

The Princess, still hiding behind Jalan, leaned out and stuck her tongue out at the guard.

"No way, Rasoul! The minute I get stuffed into that fancy outfit, I won't be allowed out of it for days!"

"Princess, _please_! Your father insists!" The guard looked to be near tears. Jalan sighed and came to his rescue. After all, the shouting match occurring around him was delaying his departure. He turned to the Princess and got down on one knee.

"You know," he said softly, picking a piece of fluff out of her hair, "the Ribsun Ambassador has a girl about your age. I believe she is coming along. The two of you will get along fine and I'm certain that she is just as unhappy about dressing up. I have a feeling that once the formalities are out of the way, you both can run around and play together. But first, you have to get in those stuffy, fancy clothes, okay?"

Jasmine sighed and threw her arms around Jalan's neck.

"Okay. Have a good trip Jalan. Hurry back!" Once she released Jalan from her vise-like hug, she turned and sprinted down the hallway towards her room. Rasoul took of his hat and ran his hand through his thinning hair.

"Why does she always listen to you, Jalan? I've been trying to reason with her most of the morning!" exclaimed the worn guard. Jalan just laughed.

"Rasoul, I am the oldest of seven children. I also happen to be the only son. Believe me, I know how to deal with little girls."

"I feel sorry for you if you grew up with six of those," replied the guard, jerking his thumb in the direction of the vanished Princess. He put his hat back on and started to walk away.

"Have a good time at your convention. Try not to bring back anything... icky."

Jalan rolled his eyes heavenward.

"None of you are ever going to let me live down that time I accidentally brought an Al-Muddy home, are you?"

Rasoul merely laughed and slapped the mage on the back as he walked away (nearly knocking him over). Iago shook his head and flew back onto Jalan's shoulder.

"Al-Muddy?" he asked curiously.

"Relative of the Mudblup," answered the mage.

"Ah."

The two walked in silence the rest of the way. It was an unspoken rule that a sorcerer's familiar speak to no one but their master and other mages. It was easier than having people ask boring and tedious questions, like "Why is your pet sentient?" and "My, how ever did you train your pet to do that?" and so on. Of course, every familiar resents being called a "pet." They are far more than that. When a mage creates a familiar, it is not just giving "intellectual thought" to a dumb animal. Rather, the mage is investing it with an "animal spirit." Highly different. The animal not only gains conscious thought, but also a great many powers. No, a fellow mage would be a fool to call another's familiar a "pet."

They arrived quickly at the throne room. The Sultan was pacing back and forth. He was always nervous before an important diplomatic meeting, especially when his most-trusted advisor was going to be absent. He looked up as the mage walked in, desperation in his eyes.

"Please tell me you've decided not to go," pleaded the Sultan.

"I'm sorry, my liege," replied the sorcerer. "I truly am. But I have no choice but to attend this convention. I did tell you of it long ago..."

"Of course, of course," sighed the Sultan, "I would never dream of forcing you to stay, Jalan. I am only nervous. Are you sure the tactic we devised will work?"

"I am certain. I have known the Ribsun ambassador for a long time, and I know how he thinks." The mage rested his hand on the Sultan's shoulder. "Do not worry, my friend. All will work out."

"Thank you Jalan. You always put my mind at ease." The Sultan reached in to his robe and pulled out a cracker. "Here you go, pretty Polly. A snack for your trip." Iago took the cracker and ate it quickly. Jalan smiled.

"Well, I am off," Jalan said with a smile, hoisting his pack on to his back.

"Yes, yes, Jalan. Have a good time. Oh, and don't bring home anything..."

"Yes, icky. I know. I remember." The exasperated mage gave one more fond wave as he and his parrot left the throne room.

"What a great pet bird he has," murmured the Sultan, walking to his throne.

To be continued...

Copyright S. Califf, Feb. 2000


	2. 

Chapter Two

The True Story of Jafar

Chapter Two

By: DangerMouse, The Great Immortal

"Come along, Clest," clicked Jalan softly. The elderly mare clucked in return, her pace not increasing in the least. She gave Jalan a look that seemed to say, _I AM in charge here. Do not think for a moment I'll let you push me around. _Jalan shook his head. _Why do I have such bad luck with animals,_ he thought to himself, looking at the slightly irate Iago.

"Don't look at me like that," grumbled the bird softly in Jalan's ear. "I can read your thoughts better than you think." Jalan just sighed and bit his lip to keep from smiling. Best to change the subject.

"Are you hungry, Iago?" he asked, a bit louder than he should have. Some people in the marketplace turned to look at him curiously. A grown man talking to a bird. What was this world coming to? They had only recently left the palace. Jalan had donned his traveling robes, which, for all practical purposes, looked very much like common peasant clothes. Even his horse was saddled with only a thin, care worn blanket. The young mage had learned early on that the best traveling clothes were the ones that made you look the poorest.

"Awk! Polly want a cracker! Awk!" Jalan smiled at Iago, who winked at him in return. Taking that as an affirmative, Jalan wandered over to a booth where a crafty looking merchant was selling bread and fruit.

"Ahh, good sir. Welcome! I have the finest, most luscious fruit in all of Agrabah!" The merchant held up a melon and continued with his sales pitch. "Melons so juicy, so full of water, that you will not be required to drink water for a week after you have one! And the bread," he exclaimed, holding up said ware. "The bread is so soft on the inside and crispy on the outside - it just melts in you mouth!" 

"Sounds good," replied Jalan and he purchased the bread and a few figs. Ripping off a bit, he fed it to Iago, who squawked happily in return. They did have enough food and money to last them the bulk of the journey, but the lull of fresh-baked bread was hard to resist. Jalan smiled cheerfully to himself and grabbed Clest's reins, aiming to get out of the city. However, something caught him out of the corner of his eye and he turned to look at it.

A young boy, about Princess Jasmine's age, stood in the shadows of a nearby alley, eyeing the merchant's cart. No doubt he was planning to steal food at any minute. He was dressed in a pair of torn pants that at one point might have been white. A ratty vest served as his only shirt. On top of his head was an odd looking little hat. _Probably an orphan,_ though Jalan sadly. He walked over to the boy, whose eyes got wide. He looked as though he might bolt at any minute. Jalan reached out his hand and caught the boy's wrist as he started to sprint away.

"I didn't take anything! Let me go!" cried the boy trying hard to pull out of Jalan's grasp. But Jalan wouldn't relent. He reached into his pack to pull of out what was left of the bread, which was most of it. The boy stopped struggling and threw his free hand up to protect his head, convinced Jalan was out to hit him. This surprised the mage so much he let go of the boy's hand and backed up. The boy did not notice, however, and continued to cower on the ground, waiting for the blow he was certain would come.

"Here," said Jalan with a sigh, holding out the bread. The boy raised his head and looked at the man in confusion. As understanding dawned across his face, he set his features firmly and shook his head, refusing the food. Jalan sighed again and rolled his eyes. "Go on. Take it. I'm offering it to you. At least now you really won't have to steal it this time."

"Won't steal. Won't steal. Awk!"

The boy looked from Jalan to the bread, to Iago, to the bread, and back to Jalan again. Tentatively, he reached out and took it. The mage smiled reassuringly. Holding the bread close to his chest, the boy looked at the mage carefully.

"What do you want in return?" asked the boy, his eyes narrowing. Jalan saw that this boy wasn't just going to accept charity. Whoever his parents had been, they had taught him well. Jalan thought a minute before answering.

"A promise," he said finally. The boy looked at Jalan with confusion, not understanding what he meant. "A promise," continued Jalan, "that you'll only steal what you need to get by. Stealing hurts others as much as poverty hurts you. A promise that you'll look out for those less fortunate than you, especially if they're in danger. A promise that even though society has deemed it that you be on the bottom rung, you don't turn to evil as a way of getting revenge." Jalan walked over and tousled the boy's hair a few times. "You aren't much now, but the pressures of our lives can change a person in a number of ways. You can get pushed around until you crack or you can become a diamond in the rough. It's all up to you." Jalan stopped at looked down at the boy, expecting him to be looking at him strangely and backing away. Instead, he had a thoughtful expression on his face. He nodded slowly and smiled back at Jalan.

"I promise," stated the boy firmly, looking at Jalan full in the eyes. He bowed once to the mage and rushed off, getting lost in the crowd. Jalan smiled. Iago cocked his head to the side but said nothing. Picking up Clest's reins again, the mage and his familiar headed out beyond the city's walls. Once they were far out of hearing distance, Iago turned to Jalan, the questions he had been holding in coming out in a rush.

"A diamond in the rough?" asked the bird.

"An old legend my father told me once," explained the mage. "In every generation, there is one person who stands out from the rest - one who is molded by the pressures around him to become a diamond. Hardest in spirit, most beautiful in soul." Jalan looked thoughtful for a moment and mounted his horse. "I saw something in that boy," he said softly, digging his heels into Clest's side to make her (unsuccessfully) go faster. "I hope he keeps his promise."

* * * * * *

Iago decided what it was he didn't like about deserts.

They were hot. They were big. They were full of sand. They didn't have enough water. 

He hated them. He hated them almost as much as he hated walking through them. No - he hated walking through them more. He decided to make his hate known.

"I hate this," stated Iago for the sixteenth time in the last hour. Jalan girt his teeth but said nothing, any argument he made no doubt falling on deaf ears. Well, parrots didn't have ears, but that was beside the point. 

"Why can't we just magic ourselves to this convention thingy?"

"It would be too dangerous," replied Jalan, shading his eyes with his hand. Was that a Venger City up there or another illusion? He looked back at the map. Deserts were just too featureless. He had no idea which sand dune he was on anymore.

"What makes it dangerous?"

"There's too much magic floating around at a convention like this," he explained. "It's really dangerous to mix magics. There aren't only going to be mages like myself there. We'll see druids, fae, spiritual mages, water mages, shadow mages, and lots of naturally magical artifacts, such as medallions and wands, not to mention many familers. Magic radiates out like lines. With that many lines crisscrossing, a spark could cause the whole place to blow."

"Yech," replied Iago. "That really would be some explosion." 

"Only High Mages and those with that rank are allowed to teleport in," finished Jalan, looking back at the map. His eyes widened in surprised and he scowled, flipping the map around. He'd had it upside down.

"Well, I just wish you would hurry up and become a High Mage," huffed Iago. "This desert is causing me to molt. I'll be a very embarrassed, bald bird by the time we get to the convention."

Jalan shrugged and shook his head. "It's never wise for a sorcerer to try to grab too much magic too fast," he said helplessly. "Magic has to be learned through discipline and study, not with easy shortcuts. The art has to be learned over time. If you try to take on too much magic too soon, it's likely to destroy you. Besides," said Jalan, ripping the map in half and shoving it back in his pack, "If you're really that hot, why don't you just morph into your humanoid form? Then you wouldn't have any molting problems."

"I'd rather molt than sweat," mumbled the bird. He puffed out his chest and gave a gusty sigh. Jalan chuckled at his familiar and continued to urge Clest along, wisely refraining from mentioning that they were completely lost.

* * * * * *

Jalan glanced bitterly down at the empty cloth pouch on the table in front of him. The smoke in the tavern he was resting in stung his eyes. He tried, without success, to brush some of the dust off of his clothing. They had traveled three days in the desert before finally finding a city called Diambus and realizing they had been traveling in the wrong direction. Diambus was to the northwest. The convention was in the northeast. Jalan sighed. It wasn't that big of a deal. They still had a week until the convention and would have no problems getting there. Other, more pressing matters had developed.

Mainly, the fact that they were completely and utterly broke. Upon arriving in the city, Clest had been spooked and started to run - the fastest Jalan had seen her move in over six years. She ran through the dusty, desert town with wild abandon. It must have been quite a sight, now that Jalan reflected on it. A charging old mare being chased by a young man in filthy traveling clothes and a bright red parrot. But, nothing Iago could say to the horse would get her to stop. And she continued to run...

Right through a merchant's tent. Now, of course, the merchant couldn't be a dealer in bricks or clothes. Oh no. It had to be a glass blower's tent who happened to have two side businesses as well - clay pots and expensive imported china dishes. All of the man's wares had been shattered. He demanded compensation, which just happened to add up to all the money Jalan had brought with him, as well as a few days labor to pay off the rest of the debt. They had already been gone from Agrabah almost a week and Jalan had nothing to show for it except an empty purse and a not-so-sunny disposition. Jalan collapsed with his head on the table.

"Oh, it ain't that bad."

The mage looked up and saw Iago perched in front of him. The parrot looked to be rather well off. He clunked a satchel full of coins in front of his master and pruned his feathers.

"Where did you get this?" asked Jalan with renewed energy, sitting up and hefting the money pouch. His eyes narrowed slightly. "You didn't steal this, did you?"

The bird had the dignity to look insulted. "Steal? Jalan, I do NOT steal. I just took your advice."

"What advice?" probed the mage, starting to feel uneasy.

"Well, you told me to spend some time in my human form. So I did." The parrot shrugged and winked at his master. "After all, parrots don't play poker."

Jalan scowled but smiled inside. "Great. Now my familiar is gambling for me." He petted the parrot on the head. "I appreciate the gesture, but this is only enough money to get us one night's lodging. We're going to need to think of someway to make up the cash."

"Well," began the bird, "we could sell the horse for glue. She's the one who started the whole mess."

"No," stated Jalan. Clest was HIS horse.

"We could wire the palace for money."

"ABSOLUTLY NOT!"

Iago shrugged. "Well then, why don't we..."

"Excuse me, sirs. You are looking for work, yes?" A man's shadow fell across the table, his voice cutting Iago's off in mid-sentence. Iago fumbled for a minute, trying to recover.

"We... Want a cracker! Awk!" he finished lamely.

"It is alright, little one," said the man. "We are alike, your master and I." He stepped into the light. His face was old, but kindly and he wore a smile. He reached into one of his hidden pockets and pulled out a small medallion. Jalan's eyes widened in recognition. 

The Medallion of the Order - a symbol given to mages that passed The Test and earned the rank of High Mage. Jalan was only an apprentice and had not taken The Test yet. Of course, he was still very young. He stood up and bowed to the elder mage, who inclined his head. Iago made no move. He didn't like being called "little one."

"Please, sir, join us at our table," invited Jalan. Once the elder mage was seated, Jalan retook his seat and motioned for a barmaid. Jalan picked up the tab on a round of drinks with the money Iago had earned. The parrot glowered at his master.

"My name is Ariulen and as you have already realized, I am a High Mage." Ariulen took a long sip of the tea Jalan had ordered him and he then continued. "You are looking for a way to earn money, Jalan?"

"Yes, sir. I am," responded Jalan. In the back of his mind, a little voice screamed at him. How did the High Mage know his name? There were hundreds of lowly sorcerers like himself, all with grandiose dreams of one day attaining power and status. Jalan ignored that voice. An even louder one was cheering the fact that a High Mage knew his name.

Ariulen nodded slowly at sat quietly at the table for a long while, as if considering something. Iago and Jalan exchanged glances, wondering what had made him go solemn. Suddenly, the elder mage sighed heavily and reached into his robes and pulled out a small paper flyer. Scanning it slowly, the mage bit his lip and shook his head. He handed it over to Jalan. 

"There is a town not far from here that is having some... problems with the supernatural," began Ariulen.

"Supernatural?" asked Jalan. There were many kinds of supernatural beings around. It all came of living in a world so indubed with magic.

The elder mage shrugged. "I don't know the details. You'll have to go to the town and find out what the job is for your self."

Jalan read the flyer out loud for Iago, who was looking at him curiously from the other side of the table. "'Town of Shikyo Kokyou is invested with supernatural beings. The members of this town seek the skilled to help our citizens escape the plague that hunts us. See The Mayor for more details. Pay is negotiable.' That's it." stated Jalan, looking up. "But we are not warriors. I am mearly a low-level mage. I don't think I could help a town against a plague of supernatural beings."

"Yeah, and there's no definite pay," noted Iago, not looking forward to an evening with anything of the supernatural category.

Ariulen lowered his eyes. "I'm afraid I lied to you, Jalan. I do know the extent of this mission. Tell me," he began, looking up to meet Jalan's eyes, "how old are you?"

"Twenty-five, sir."

The High Mage nodded. "You are young and gifted in the art. More gifted than many I have ever met. You already have summoned a familiar. Most mages can't do that until their thirtieth year."

This came as a surprise to Jalan, who had found the spell in an old book of his Master's more than a year ago. His Master, The Great Romundula, had passed away almost three years ago. Jalan had continued to educate himself in the art, being unable to travel to find a new master. He was already too entrapped in the web of court life and working as the Sultan's advisor to go off on some merry jaunt. Being trapped at the palace, he had only taken short, but informative trips around the globe using the roads of magic. His collection of magical artifacts and source books already rivaled those of some of the great libraries in even such far magical countries as that one with the magical king whose mood controlled the weather. Not having had much contact with other Mages his age, he was surprised to learn he had surpassed some of them.

"I would not have given you this mission if I did not think you could handle it, Jalan," continued the elder mage, startling Jalan out of his thoughts. Jalan nodded.

"Then I will take the mission," replied Jalan, ignoring Iago's groan of protest. He stood up and bowed lowly to the High Mage. "I do not mean to be rude, but if I am going to travel to Shikyo Kokyou tomorrow..."

"Yes, yes. Then you must rest." The mage stood up slowly and took Jalan's hand in his own, holding it tightly. He stared at Jalan's face, particularly his eyes, studying him carefully. After a moment he released the mage's hand and sat back down at the table, staring into his drink. Jalan watched him for a moment, then started up stairs.

"Iago? You coming?" asked Jalan, looking back at his friend.

"In... in a moment, Jalan," replied the parrot. He was watching Ariulen with a thoughtful expression.

"Don't be too late."

"Yes, Jalan." Iago continued to watch the mage. Once he was certain Jalan was out of earshot, he hopped across the table and got right in Ariulen's face.

"What are you sending him into?" he asked harshly. The elder mage said nothing. "Tell me!"

Ariulen looked up and glared at Iago. "You would do better to show some respect to your superiors, familiar."

"You are not my superior. Neither is Jalan. He is my friend. So, I want to know what you are planning on doing to him."

"I am not in charge," answered the mage slowly. "This goes beyond me. Jalan is special, Iago. You know it just as well as I." The mage took Iago's silence as an affirmative.

"I don't care," said the parrot after a moment. "But if he is hurt, I will NEVER forgive you." Iago began to fly upstairs, but was stopped by the mage's voice.

"Any choice he makes from this point on is his own, Iago," called the mage. He watched Iago pause a moment before flying up the stairs. The mage turned back to his drink.

"He is a strong soul, Iago," he whispered to himself, "and you are a loyal friend, more loyal than most familiars. He is The Diamond in the Rough." Ariulen clutched his drink tightly. Too tightly, for the cup shattered in his hands, cutting them to ribbons. Blood flowed from him and mingled with the tea on the table.

To be continued...

Copyright S. Califf, Feb. 2000


	3. 

Chapter Three

The True Story of Jafar

Chapter Three

By: DangerMouse, The Great Immortal

"This looks great, Jalan," Iago hissed into his ear. "You always take me to the nicest places." Jalan ignored his familiar and looked around his surroundings. He sighed as he was forced to agree.

Shikyo Kokyou was a small backwater town in the middle of the desert. The entire town would probably almost fit in Agrahbah's marketplace. There were some rickety buildings in two columns, leaving an open breeze way/road in the middle. As Jalan nudged Clest into town, he frowned as he heard doors slamming all around him. So far, they had yet to see a living soul. Apparently, the inhabitants of this town were not too friendly to strangers.

"I think, perhaps, we should try to find somebody in charge," Jalan muttered softly to Iago, who snorted in disgust as a sheet was pulled down in front of a window they had just passed.

"I don't think anyone in this town will be happy to see us," Iago replied softly. Jalan ignored him again, finally spotting a small building at the end of the street marked 'Sheriff.' Dismounting from Clest, he walked the old mare over to the building and tied her to a post. Jalan had taken no fewer than two steps when the door to the Sheriff's building swung open and a large, burly, hairy man stepped out. Iago gulped in his ear.

"We don't want strangers in this town," the man said coldly, his voice growling like a bear's. "I suggest you take that corpse of a horse and leave the way you came."

"I was given this flier stating there was a job in this town," replied Jalan, taking out the piece of paper Ariulen had given him. The Sheriff walked closer to Jalan, limping slightly on his left leg, and roughly snatched the paper out of his hand. The young mage nearly gagged at the smell of the Sheriff. Obviously, he had been hitting the bottle rather hard. The Sheriff squinted at the paper a moment before crumpling it in his hand and throwing it on the ground.

"We didn't post no flier. This ain't ours. Now, I suggest, for the last time, that you leave before we _make_ you leave." As if to make his point, the Sheriff pulled out a rather large and rather sharp knife, fingering the razor sharp edge with an odd gleam in his eyes. Jalan felt Iago stiffen on his shoulder.

"Awk! Leave! Awk!" he chirped loudly, biting Jalan's ear. But Jalan wasn't listening. After many years of working in the palace and having to deal with merchants and ambassadors, he could tell when someone was hiding something. Whatever this man was keeping from him, it was a doozy. Jalan found his innate curiosity getting the better of him. His eye's narrowed briefly, his face appearing to be very dangerous. Then, just as suddenly, he rolled his eyes heavenward and sighed.

"I suppose that's what comes of listening to drunken companions," Jalan said nonchalantly with a shrug. He heard Iago sigh deeply. The bird recognized this voice. "Still, I was really counting on this money to get me through the last leg of my journey." He looked up at the sky, shielding his eyes from the sun. "I won't be able to make it to the next town before dark. Perhaps..." Jalan paused a moment, staring at the Sheriff's injured leg. Suddenly, he smiled and snapped his fingers. "I know something of the apothecary arts," Jalan began quickly. "Perhaps, if I can speed along the recovery of your leg, you would allow my pet and myself to spend the night in your lovely town? We'll leave first thing in the morning."

The Sheriff stared coldly at the mage. With a shrug, the Sheriff began to step forward, planning on slitting the kid's throat, when a sharp pain raced up through his left side, forcefully reminding him of his injury. "I really can help," Jalan said, not having missed the fact that he had almost died. The Sheriff paused a moment more, then nodding grudgingly, ushered Jalan inside the building.

* * * * * *

"I hate this," Iago said firmly as he tried to make himself comfortable on the rotting perch that had been supplied for him. Jalan yawned sleepily and rolled over in his bed to look at his familiar. The bed was more like a piece of wood with a threadbare sheet thrown over it. Still, there was a roof over their heads and their stomachs were full, the sheriff and his men having given them a meal after the miraculous 'healing' of his leg. Trintabulen excretions were known for their healing properties and Jalan had been hoping to sell or trade it at the Convention. Unfortunately, they had used it all on that lousy sheriff in exchange for a tiny, stinking room. Jalan sighed.

"I know, you hate this, Iago. You've said that many times. Just try to get some, sleep, alright?" Jalan reached out and scratched Iago's head before rolling over and promptly falling asleep. Iago looked down at his master and friend, slightly envious. He wished he could sleep that well. Jalan's face had relaxed, his head resting on the back of his hand, composed with the restful expression of an innocent. Iago looked fondly at his Master, almost laughing out loud. So peaceful, so pleasant.

"Still a child," Iago muttered softly. He stretched his wings a few times and tried to close his eyes. Yet, something seemed to be holding him back. Wide awake, Iago felt a shiver run through his body, a terrible sense of foreboding eking its way into his system. It was like eyes were all around him, watching him, waiting for him....

The bird shook his head firmly, shaking off the terror he felt. "This is stupid," he murmured softly to himself. With a sigh, he flew over to the open window, letting the cool breeze ruffle his feathers, trying to relax. After a few moments, Iago started to feel calm. He looked out at the empty courtyard.

It was quiet in this town at night. Of course, it had been pretty quite during the day as well, but then the air had been alive with the tensions of the city dwellers. Now that everyone was asleep, however, the city seemed calm. Iago almost laughed at himself, being so afraid only moments ago. It seemed ludicrous. Turning to fly back to the perch, Iago took one last look at the courtyard shaking his head...

And he froze. His heart skipped a few beats and his mouth went dry. "Jalan..." he whispered hoarsely, flying over to his Master, but not taking his eyes off the courtyard. "Jalaann...."

"What? What?" murmured the sleepy mage, rubbing his eyes. He shoved Iago off of his chest and blinked rapidly, peering around the dark room. Scratching his head, he looked over at his familiar, who was staring out the window, an expression of absolute terror on his face. Jalan felt himself jerk wide-awake. "What is it, Iago?" he whispered quickly, sliding over to look out the window. "What's going on..." Jalan's voice died in his throat as he peered down into the courtyard.

The city was coming alive. Or, rather, it was coming undead. Jalan watched in growing horror as a number of very dead looking people and creatures started slinking out of the shadows, gathering in the center of the courtyard. Wraiths, ghosts, zombies, demons - Jalan couldn't keep track. The number kept glowing, a few at first, followed by ten more, followed by twenty. They were murmuring among themselves in a variety of tongues, seemingly agitated. Suddenly, the talking stopped and all eyes turned to look the young mage simultaneously. Jalan swallowed hard.

"Welcome to the town of Shikyo Kokyou," came a soft, gentle voice behind him. The mage whirled around on the bed and gasped.

Standing in the center of the room, glowing with the cool, light of the moon drifting in the open window, was a beautiful woman. She had long, shimmering, raven-black hair that hung well past her knees. She wore a light, gauzy, black dress that, while functional, was very alluring. Her eyes were slanted like those people Jalan had visited in the far east and were very dark, yet distinct in the way they seemed to bore through his person. Even as she smiled at him, her lovely face kind and gentle, Jalan felt the unmistakable shroud of death about her and shrank back as she stepped forward. She smiled again, sadly.

"I'm sorry if we surprised you," she said, her voice smooth and welcoming. "We mean you no harm." She moved forward, although her feet did not seem to touch the ground. She reached out a hand and rested it on Jalan's own. He was surprised that it felt so warm. Her skin was white and smooth, like marble, and Jalan had expected it to have the icy cold touch of death. He felt Iago shift on his shoulder, leaning over to whisper in his ear.

"She's a vampire," the bird said, so softly, Jalan wasn't sure if he hadn't just imagined it. The mage took a deep breath, composing himself as best he could.

"What do you want from us?" the mage asked, although he already had a fairly decent idea. His mind was whirling with questions. Why had Ariulen sent them into this death trap? What was going on? The Vampriss, still holding Jalan's hand, sat down on the bed next to him, her gazing drifting out the window at the assembled group below. She sighed.

"We want to hire you."

Jalan felt his jaw drop and stared stupidly at the vampriss. He tried to speak, but could get nothing out. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Iago sporting a similar expression. This was not at all what he had been expecting. _I want to devour your mortal soul_, or _We plan to sacrifice you to the Dark Lord_ - that was what he had imagined her answer would be. "You want to _hire_ us?" Jalan asked finally, in disbelief. The vampriss nodded.

"That is correct," she replied, turning to face Jalan. She was still holding his hand and started absently stroking it, her expression unfocused. Suddenly, she blinked rapidly and, realizing that she was caressing his hand in a _very_ familiar way, dropped it and turned her gaze to the floor. Jalan was aghast. Was she _blushing_?

"Wait a minute," Iago said, flying off of Jalan's shoulder and landing in front of the woman. "_You_ were the ones that posted that flier? You need help getting rid of a plague that hunts you?"

Before she could answer, understanding dawned on Jalan. "The villagers," he said quietly. The vampriss looked sharply at his face, slightly surprised and relieved.

"Yes." She took Jalan's hand and stood up, pulling him to his feet. Jalan was on the verge of asking another question when the vampriss put two fingers to his lips, stalling him. Her large luminous eyes encompassed his own and he felt himself dangerously drawn to this woman. "I will explain everything," she said quickly, standing very close to Jalan, moving her hand to his shoulder. "We can't do it here, though. We will need to go somewhere else to talk, away from the village."

"Where?" Jalan said, slightly nervous.

"Down." The vampriss began leading Jalan out of the room. Iago started to follow, but looked out the window one final time. The courtyard was empty.

* * * * * *

"Amazing!"

Jalan was forced to agree with his familiar's awed observation. Jalan turned to the vampriss walking next to him. She smiled, obviously pleased with their reaction. "How did your people accomplish all of this, Leetah?" he asked her.

After they left Jalan's room, the vampriss, Leetah, had proceeded to lead them through a series of intricate tunnels, deep below the city. They had been going down for over and hour and Jalan was sure they were miles below the surface. It had been one of the longest hours of Jalan's life - never being overly fond of enclosed, dark places, he had been forced to grope blindly in the musty darkness, following the soft spoken orders Leetah called back to them. But, as they stood in the main hall of the underground city, Jalan decided it was worth it.

The ceiling above them, covered with archaic and intricate carvings, stretched for hundreds of feet, the top vanishing in inky blackness. It was a naturally formed, circular cavern, the result of millions of years of patient, dripping water. Equally spaced on the walls were elaborate golden sconces holding flaming torches that gave off an odd, bluish light. The light reflected off the highly polished black stone floors and walls, leaving no place of the main floor in darkness. The walls, like the ceilings, were covered in detailed carvings and script. Jalan walked up to one of the walls, running his fingers along the spidery text, trying to make it out. Leetah walked up, silently as a cat, and stood beside him, watching his face.

"On these walls is the story of my peoples' struggles and how we came to be here," she began softly. Iago, who had been looking at the odd torches, flew over to Jalan and perched on his shoulder as Leetah continued her story. "Many centuries ago, a member of my clan befriended a mage. My clan has never been very violent and we often choose not to kill humans to survive." She laughed lightly and shook her head. "I guess you could call us a clan of misfits. Vampires without bite, ghosts without grudges - you name it. Our leader, Jack Yokai, had knack for collecting oddball demons and the like. Regardless of our peaceful ways, mortals continued to hunt and kill us. It was then that Jack and his mage friend, a young woman named Lana, decided we must form a city of our own, away from mortals. They would never learn to accept us and we really didn't expect them to, given all the bad blood between us. Come, there are things I would like to show you while we talk." Leetah took Jalan's arm and began to lead him through the massive entrance hall. 

"Jack and Lana traveled far out into the desert," she continued as they walked. "It was a difficult journey, but finally, they managed to find these caves. Deciding they would suffice for our needs, they traveled back and gathered the rest of the clan, brining us to live here. We have lived here for centuries, undisturbed. But," she said with a sigh, "as you can see, that has all changed."

Jalan frowned. Something didn't seem right about that story. He heard Iago 'huff' on his shoulder.

"How could you people live here in the desert by yourself when you need fresh, human blood to survive?" the bird asked, his voice slightly accusing. Jalan nodded in agreement, but said nothing. Leetah looked at them, her eyes seeming to light up in amusement.

"We've found other ways," she said. "Here, I'll show you." Leetah led them out of the hall down a long, dark corridor. All around him, Jalan could sense, rather than feel, things - a cool burst of air brushing against his cheek, a soft sigh from a corner, distant footsteps that belong to no one. He could feel Iago shaking on his shoulder. Jalan reached out his hand and rested it on the bird's head, petting him gently.

"This place is really creepy," Iago murmured. Leetah glanced back at them and nodded.

"The Descendents tend to frequent this hallway," she explained. "They're unchained spirits, ghosts that wander the Earth with no place to go, searching for the reason why they have been left behind." She looked at the floor and brushed her hand across her eyes. "It's sad really," she continued after a moment. "We try to help as many of them cross over as we can, but for most of them, there is nothing we can do. Ah, here we are."

The trio stopped in front of a heavy oaken door that looked oddly out of place in the polished, stone hallway. Flashing them a grin, Leetah reached out and grabbed the metal handle, pulling back with all her might. As the door opened, Iago gasped.

"Jalapeño!" cried the parrot, shielding his eyes as warm sunlight washed over them. Jalan squinted in the bright light and his heart leapt into his throat as he felt an unreasonable panic fill his soul. He looked around wildly for Leetah and was relieved when he saw her standing, quite calmly, in the light coming from the room.

"How...?" Jalan asked, staring at her in disbelief.

"It isn't real sunlight," she said, grinning impishly. "It's very close, though. This is part of the gift given to us by Lana." Leetah strode into the room and Jalan and Iago could do nothing but follow.

Through the door was another cavern, almost twice the size of the giant entrance hall. The ground was covered in a soft topsoil and growing in it were trees, grass, and grains. Cows, chickens, ducks, sheep and a slew of other animals dotted the landscape, grazing in penned areas. It was a regular farm down here! Jalan looked up, shielding his eyes. Above them was a glowing orb. Jalan found himself unable to look at it directly. For all accounts, Jalan believed it to be a small sun. The warmth coming from it creeped into his chilled bones, alleviating some of the dampness he had acquired while walking through the caves. Jalan found it hard to believe that they were still underground.

Leetah was looking over the landscape, a wistful expression on her face. "We call this _shitsu no taiyou_, or 'room of the sun,' in Yokai's native language. Lana created the sun orb above us, altering it slightly so that it would not have the effect of turning the night dwellers, like myself, into dust. We did the rest. It wasn't easy, bringing in the top soil, animals, and seeds, but we managed it, somehow."

"I still don't understand how you survive," Iago protested. "Fruit trees and grains are nice, but last time I checked, they weren't in a vampire's menu plan."

"You are wise, familiar," said Leetah, turning to face the bird and Jalan. "We do not eat human food, although I'm still rather fond of it. We can, however, drink animal blood." She gestured across the field at the animals. Iago turned slightly green. Leetah saw his expression and laughed. "Do not worry, _doubutsu sei_. We do not eat parrot."

"Well, that's a relief," Iago said, smiling at the vampriss.

Leetah nodded at him, grinning. She turned to Jalan, who had been very quite, her expression falling. "Now you know how we live," she said gently, walking up to stand close to Jalan. "I now need to tell you why we need your help. Once I tell you, though, you will have to help us, or you will not be allowed to leave here." Leetah met Jalan's eyes and held them, allowing the impact of her words to seep into his system. Out of the corner of his eyes, he felt Iago shift uncomfortably, probably readying himself to protest. Before the bird could say anything, the mage nodded his consent. Leetah's worrisome face relaxed into one of relief. Taking Jalan's arm once again, they walked out of the sunroom, back into the dark hallway.

* * * * * *

"Now you understand our problem," Leetah stated, folding her hands on the table in front of her. They were sitting in a dinning room of sorts. Leetah had an inconspicuous goblet filled with a red liquid she had not identified, although Jalan was relatively sure of its contents. She lifted it to her lips and took a slow drink. Jalan toyed with the meal set before him, a delicious stew with fresh baked bread on the side. Iago munched on a piece of carrot, his eyes constantly straying to the dark room behind them. The bird stretched and spread his wings, intent on flying to that room, when Jalan's hand snaked around the parrot's body, holding him in place. The familiar glared at his Master.

"I think a treasure of that size would be a temptation for anyone," Jalan said, with an irate glance down at Iago. "How did you manage to acquire so much and why?" The room Leetah had shown them after the sun room was larger than the Sultan's treasure room and almost three times as full of gold, jewels, magical artifacts, and the like. Iago's eyes had nearly bulged out of his skull when he walked in there and Jalan was hard pressed to drag his friend away.

"Certain demons, like dragons, are valuable treasure pack rats," Leetah explained. "They see something shiny or expensive and they take it, sometimes without conscious thought. Demons and dragons have no real use for these items so I guess it would be more of a collection than a treasure. Often, a demon will come back from a trip to the surface, empty his pockets, and leave the treasure room without a second glance. Even if they acquire only three or four valuable items a year, when you consider how long lived we all are...."

"Then it builds up," Jalan finished, nodding. It made sense. He knew that dragons were that way, building up hordes of treasure for no other reason then that they could. It seemed reasonable demons could be the same way. "How did the villagers find out about the treasure?" Leetah sighed and drained what was left of her drink with one large gulp, slamming the heavy pewter goblet to the table.

"Almost three years ago, a man was walking through this part of the desert. His horse had died and he was very near the verge of death himself. One of us found him and took pity on him and decided to bring him here to recover." She shook her head angrily. "We weren't so foolish as to not keep the treasure room a secret from him, but he wandered off one day and managed to find it. There were a great many meetings after that.

"We couldn't let him leave, not with the knowledge of our treasure in his mind. He would no doubt return with many humans and try to take it from us. Yet, there was a growing problem with his staying." Leetah closed her eyes for a moment, then looked at Jalan intently. "Humans, all mortals, in fact, have a strong.... scent about them, for lack of a better word. For flesh and blood eating demons and vampires, the scent of a human can be intoxicating, especially since we have abstained for so long. That is why you have yet to meet anyone else besides me. They have all agreed to stay away, so as not to be tempted by you." Jalan nodded again, that having been another question of his. Leetah took a deep breath and continued. "The reason I am here is because the temptation isn't as strong for me. Yokai was the one who turned me to vampirism and he has always had little or no desire for human blood. I think it has something to do with him being a Buddhist. At any rate, I have never tasted human blood nor have any wish to. In the case of most of the others down here, that isn't true. Many of them were converts to Jack's cause after hundreds of years of living in typical vampire or demon fashion. Having that human down here was like locking a recovering alcoholic in a liquor store. We feared not only for his life, but for our way of life as well. Soon, it became apparent that we had no choice but to force him to leave. He gave us his word he would speak of us to no one, but we knew he was lying. Two demons led him away from our city, blindfolded, and took him to a town a good distance from here. We hoped that would be enough and that he would never find his way here again. We were wrong."

"And now that little village up there is comprised of the people he chose to help him get the treasure," Jalan said evenly, his face slightly drawn and tired, sorting out the story in his head. Leetah nodded. "You can't drive the villagers off yourself," Jalan continued, "because the temptation to kill would be too strong. If even one villager died, you might as well have just killed that man in the first place." Jalan shook his head. "This is going to be tricky." They both fell silent, pondering the situation.

"Well," Iago said quickly, "this is a problem that will be solved by wiser heads than mine. You two can sit here thinking about it. I'm going to go think about it while I roll in that gigantic pile of treasure."

"Iago!" Jalan said sharply, but the bird had already flown away. Leetah laughed.

"I never should have picked a parrot for a familiar," the young mage said, a half smile on his face. "The reason they're so popular among pirate wizards is because of their innate passion about the finer things in life."

"He's charming," Leetah replied, leaning back in her chair, "and very loyal and wise. I couldn't imagine a better traveling companion." Her expression changed slightly as she gazed at Jalan, almost as if she was studying him. The mage raised an eyebrow at her as she eyed him up and down.

"What?" he asked finally, feeling himself smile. Leetah echoed his expression.

"I've haven't met many mortals before," she began slowly. "You seem to be taking all of this in such stride, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, sitting in the City of the Dead, talking to its mayor, a female vampire. A vampire who wants you to help her get rid of a plague of humans on the surface, yet not kill any of them. Most mortals have an inborn fear of our kind, even if they had never heard of us before. But you... you don't seem to mind at all!" Jalan shrugged.

"You have treated me with more respect and hospitality than many other courts I have visited, all around the world. Being an advisor to the Sultan in Agrabah has given me vast knowledge and intimate associations with people from many different cultures - from the barbarians of Odiferous, to the Magical Master in The Land of the Black Sands. I like to think I can read people fairly well, even when I've only just met them. I trust and believe you completely. There is nothing here for me to fear. As for taking everything in stride..." Jalan shrugged again, his smile growing. "I'm from Agrabah. You wouldn't believe how many odd characters we have storming in our city gates every other day. I think I'm becoming immune." Leetah laughed lightly and shook her head.

"Never a dull moment for you, I suppose," she said. Jalan just smiled in return. Leetah grew quiet a moment, regarding Jalan, seeming to consider something. Finally, she took a deep breath and met his eyes, speaking very softly. "You're beautiful, you know?"

This took Jalan by surprise. He blinked at her, unsure of what to say. "Well," he began clearing his throat, slightly embarrassed, "I don't know about that."

"No, you really are," Leetah interjected firmly. "You're witty, fun to talk to, extremely handsome, intelligent, and very powerful. I would imagine you are flooded with marriage requests back home."

"Uh, well, actually..." Jalan found himself stuttering slightly under her intense gaze. He had never paid much attention to his looks or other people's looks for that matter - his life was completely wound up in the Sultan's court and his magical studies. Yet, in this past year alone, he had been invited to more parties, gatherings, and offered more dowries than he could count. He had pushed them all aside, not giving them a second thought. It never occurred to him that he was so well liked before, that he was good looking, or even that he was such a catch. He stared at the table before him, slightly in shock.

"You never realized it, did you?" Leetah said in surprise. Jalan blinked his eyes rapidly and looked back at her.

"I.... I guess not," he said softly. "I mean, I never gave it any thought at all." He reached up and touched his smooth face. "I'm not really that good looking..."

"You are," Leetah pressed. She stood up and walked around the table, kneeling down next to him. She put her hand on his own against his face, her finger tips barely brushing against his shimmering, black hair that he always kept tied in a functional ponytail low on his back. Now that they were this close, Jalan could see the many flecks of color in her eyes, making them the rich black he had seen from a distance. She had a warmth and a perfumed scent about her that Jalan found exhilarating, waking up his body that had been exhausted only moments before. He wasn't sure how long they sat like that, the cool air in the cavern seemingly electrified. Jalan reached out his other hand and caught her own, intertwining their fingers together. She was achingly beautiful! They leaned forward, Jalan closing his eyes as Leetah's lips brushed against his own, feeling a surge of energy flow through him. Suddenly, the moment was shattered as Leetah leapt back as though bitten. She stood up, moving away from Jalan, her hand covering her lips.

"I'm so sorry," she said quickly, looking at the floor. "That shouldn't have happened."

"It's alright," Jalan assured her, standing up slowly.

"No, no it's not," she said, slightly flustered, her words coming out in a rush. She took a few deep breaths, continuing to avoid his gaze. Finally, she looked up at him, her beautiful eyes filled with something Jalan could only call terror. "I won't let it happen again. I'm sorry. I'll show you to your room." She turned and began to walk quickly, Jalan finding himself almost running to keep up. Leetah continued to talk, almost as if she was speaking only to fill up the air. "I'll send someone up to the surface to get your horse so the villagers don't eat it. We can put her in the pasture with the NightMares in _shitsu no taiyou_. I'm sure they'll get along okay. I'll check on Iago later and let him know where you're sleeping. We can work out the details of how to get rid of the villagers tomorrow. You should sleep now. We're both tired and not thinking straight." They stopped in front of a door, Leetah whirling around to look at him. Jalan tried to say something, but she cut him off.

"You can sleep in here. I'll have someone fetch you later so you can eat. Please don't wander too much in the halls. You are not a prisoner in the room, but there are those here who... who might be tempted by you and it's better to be safe than sorry. Please sleep well." Leetah began to reach out her hand to touch his shoulder in a gesture of parting, but she snatched it back, tearing her gaze away from his. "Good night," she said quickly, turning around, walking away down the corridor. Jalan blinked and she had vanished. He stared down in the direction she had gone for a moment before walking slowly into the room.

To be continued...

Copyright S. Califf, Mar. 2000


End file.
